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Contents
Other links
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Dogon
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Travelogue: Journey to the Northern Villages
of Dogon
We then left left for Dogon. The road which was a dusty
construction path last year was now completed – the paved road made
the trip to Bandigiara smooth and quick. Some notebooks and pens were
purchased for the school in Kondou and the essential kola nuts were also
purchased.
Sangha 
Three hours after we started from Mopti, we arrived in the
large Dogon village of Sangha. The 4WD was parked and our bags unloaded.
Proceeding with some porters who carried our luggage and boxes of bottled
water on their heads, we started heading down the escarpment. The view
was beautiful, but you also had to be mindful of your footing, especially
with the many loose rocks and narrow paths. We stopped for lunch and a
break in Banani. While waiting for our meal of sauce and rice, we had
a coke and then went to a few shops full of Dogon woodcarvings. For good
or bad, I didn’t bring much money with me and so I didn’t
buy anything. The village seemed a little too touristy to me and the prices
were high. We also observed a man who, in addition to having a mental
problem, also had a drinking problem. He went around asking people if
they had millet beer or if some money could be given so he could purchase
some. Our Dogon guide Boubacar gave him a kola nut, hoping that the nut
with a caffeine buzz would appeal to him for at least a while.
Neni - Masked ceremony and funeral
Late afternoon we reached the plains entrance to the village
of Neni. While waiting for the masked dance
to start, we were shown some museum-quality Tellem artifacts that a Dogon
man had for sale. Admiring the good condition of the pieces and small
size of the wooden spoon and bowl (the Tellem were the size of pygmies),
we replied that we couldn’t purchase the pieces but thanked him
for showing us. A few women were preparing for a funeral as well, putting
on their best dress and jewelry. At the appointed hour we began our ascent
to the main part of the village. Along the way we saw a colorful blanket
carefully folded up and placed on a rock. Shanti (the impulsive and inquisitive
8 year old with us) was about to touch the blanket when our guide told
us that the blanket was used during the funeral process and, as a consecrated
object must not be touched.
Masked Ceremony
Villagers and a couple tourists began gathering around the
flat spot where the masked dance was to occur, climbing on the many rocks
to get a good view. Drums invited the masked dancers to come forth, moving
in rhythmical patterns. Aside from some variations, we saw many of the
same type of masks as we did last year in Pelou, a village in southern
Dogon. Most masks were carved out of wood, with a woven cloth covering
the wearer’s back of head, a fiber bikini-style top covered with
conch shells and colorful (using the resin from the l’anea resin
tree) grass skirts, anklets and bracelets.
I identified the rabbit, antelope, kanaga, hunter, and maison mask. Each
type of mask seemed to have its own particular move, with the kanaga
swooping its head/mask in a circular fashion and the
maison mask leaping high into the air while balancing the tall mask.
Showing its strength and control, the maison mask then carefully bent
its head down until the tall thin mask finally touched the ground in front
of him and then repeat the process tipping the mask backwards until it
touched the ground in back of him. Next a hunter mask came out with a
spear, engaging in a duel with an older Dogon man wearing a Fulani hat
and cane. Adague, guardian of the environment,
wore a fibrous mask with what looked like several eyes. It had a leather-like
shield and an axe, and also engaged in the duel.
Funeral Ceremony
After the masked dance the funeral began. The funeral could
be thought of more like a memorial service, in that the dead person had
been buried for some time already. This was a chance for friends and family
from distant villages to gather and remember the dead woman. According
to our Dogon guide Boubacar, the funeral (a non-masked ceremony since
it was for a woman) typically would last for five days. The mostly woman
funeral procession began dancing and singing in a line in the crowded
area. Drums accompanied the singing, occasionally enhanced by the sound
of plastic whistles. In a small area near the drummers, a man and woman
took off their sandals and began dancing as if communicating with each
other. Then the woman began dancing solo and blowing a whistle, with the
sleeping baby tied to her back bouncing up and down. Although I would
have liked to stay longer, it was time for us to leave and set up our
base in Kondou. Lit by the moonlight, the walk to the village was pleasant.
Koundou encampment
Although the accommodations were quite simple, the hotel
was packed. Tables in the sandy courtyard were filled with tourists from
Germany, France, and other countries. People set up tents in the courtyard
or on the flat roof of the hotel buildings. People were waiting in line
to wash up in the outdoor stalls with a bucket and others wanted to use
the outdoor bathroom stall consisting of a hole in the ground behind a
beautiful carved wooden door. Our hotel room was simple as well, consisting
of a table, two windows, a fluorescent light, and a cane bed with a thin
mattress and single sheet almost covering the mattress surface, and inch-thick
foam for a pillow. Looking around the room, I could find no electric outlets.
I became even more grateful that I had the opportunity to recharge batteries
while at Mac’s Refuge in Sevaré. Luckily many of the hotel
guests that had been rather noisy during the night left the next morning.
For the next two nights the hotel was much less congested.
Trek to the three Yougas
In the morning we left for the villages of Youga
Nah and Youga Dogourou. I choose to ride on the cow cart, anticipating
a challenging climb. A few boys joined us, indicating that they had nothing
better to do. While trekking up the rocky escarpment, we encountered an
older man who was blind, weaving a shallow bowl out of local grasses.
After purchasing a bowl and giving the kindly man a kola nut, we continued
our trek upward. Periodically we paused for a few moments for a mini-break,
drinking water and capturing a panoramic view of the plains and escarpment
climbed so far. Even in these steep, rocky areas one could see evidence
of millet stalks and other crops carefully planted and then harvested
in the tiny areas of ground. In a small opening between some stone houses
was a narrow loom, with the sizeable amount of the white fabric already
accumulated around a narrow bolt. In another spot in Yougou Na, we saw
a fetish, which essentially looked like a tall mound of mud covered with
white millet porridge. 
Continuing our trek, we reached Yougou Dougourou, the village where the
tradition of mask originated. Climbing up a little further, we reached
the toguna where we found the hogon of the village. Small in stature,
the older man with a white beard and eyebrows, simple indigo cloth shirt
and cotton Dogon hat, and held a carved walking stick. He walked and spoke
with a commanding presence. The hogon and another man in the toguna
began drinking millet beer, a favorite to the Dogon. Boubacar gave the
gentle hogon a few kola nuts, accepted a drink
of the beer from the large calabash, thanked the hogon for his hospitality,
and then we continued on. Nestled in between the Tellem dwellings high
in the cliffs, was the place where the hogon originally lived. After spending
some time marveling at the architectural wonders of both the Dogon and
their Tellem predecessors, we made our way back down to the village encampment.
Here we rested, had a coke, read, and had lunch before heading back to
Kondou.
Trek to the Kondou
villages
Our final trekking day consisted of visiting the Kondou
villages up on the escarpment and the important place called Arou. We
began climbing up the rocky hill right behind the hotel, up to Kondou
Ginna. Like the typical Dogon village, granaries (used for storing grain
and other valuables) were made out of mud, with a thatched conical roof
protecting the contents during deluges of the rainy season. To protect
the precious contents from vermin such as rats, the granaries are raised
from the ground with piled stones. At one granary, the beautifully carved
window was opened, and the young girl who had
climbed up the ladder began hauling down some of the millet to make into
food. Homes were more often made out of rocks and/or mud and had a flat
roof. 
Continuing further up the escarpment, we came to Kondou Kekeni. Here we
saw some monkey skulls imbedded into the stone surface. Mindful of the
knowledgeable advice or our Dogon guide, we did not take photos or attempt
to touch the important site. Like in some other villages, residents had
quickly laid out some wooden carvings, eager for a sale. They even offered
us some millet beer; I took a sip of the warm locally-brewed beer. Boubacar
also showed us a source of drinking water, located below a large sheet
of escarpment rock. In order to preserve the quality of the drinking water,
those wanting to go down to the water had to take off their shoes.
Finally we reached the topmost village Kondou Da, where we would spend
some time exploring and resting. Just beyond the village one could see
a green valley. It was a large garden with onions, tobacco, eggplant,
squash, mangoes, calabashes, lettuce, papaya, spices, potatoes, and other
items. Water was carried in calabashes from a nearby pond, seemingly protected
by a crocodile perched on a rock. The crocodile seemed to be enjoying
itself, as if it knew that the revered nature of the crocodiles would
provide safety. Beneath some jutting rocks, Boubacar pointed out some
human skeletons and bones. For lunch and our daily siesta, we stayed at
a nice encampment, complete with cane cots and foam pads, flowers, and
beautiful carved wooden doors. To pass the time, I enjoyed looking at
the wooden carvings and artifacts in the small boutique. No one complained
about the higher prices for cokes in remote villages such as this, since
such items had to be carried up the steep, rocky escarpment. As we left
the village, we encountered a fetish on a large rock, with the fetish
rock upright and smaller ones around it. The number of fetishes spotted
and placement of them was intriguing.
Arou, home of the highest Hogon
Following our siesta, we continued our trek to Arou, the
place where the highest Hogon resided. People represented from each village
come to offer sacrifices here for rain. The high Hogon is the important
decision-maker for the Dogon, and even is consulted as a representative
of the Dogon in political matters of the country. After climbing even
higher, we finally reached the small home where the gatekeeper of Arou
lived. Prior to going up to the ginna, the elderly gatekeeper told us
that his wife was suffering from an eye ailment and wondered if we had
anything that might be of help. All we had for her swollen eye area (which
looked like conjunctivitis or similar eye condition) was some Tylenol.
After giving her some advice/instructions, we proceeded up the rocks to
the hogon and temple, with the gatekeeper going before us to announce
our presence to the hogon. At the foot of a large baobab tree was a circular
path. Boubacar instructed us to enter in a clockwise direction. The other
way was reserved for people of special status. The Hogon was sitting in
the low-roofed toguna next to the ginna. He welcomed us and indicated
that it was an honor to have us as guests. The high hogon was simply dressed
in white with the traditional strip-sewn cloth and a small white hat.
Neither his placement, voice, or dress marked any significance; neither
did he exert his authority in our presence. A rooster and hen were running
about.  The
ginna temple in Arou was the largest ginna in all Dogon. It had 9 rounded
points on top of the retangular-shaped façade, with 8 ostrich eggs
on top of the points (one of the points didn’t have an egg). Even
though there was a door opening, it was not possible to see inside the
religious building. Above the door were 8 narrow vertical openings, representing
the 8 ancestors. The hogon was presented with some money for photography,
a small handful of kola nuts, and a reply of thankfulness. At that time
we headed down towards the plains, taking the longer but less strenuous
route near the village of Ibi. On the sandy road we saw a chameleon making
its way to some dry grass. According to Boubacar, sighting of a chameleon
is a sign of good luck. Grubby with sweat and dust, we all eagerly took
a bucket bath that night before our meal.
Tellem and Dogon Artifacts for sale
With the Director’s large female wooden sculpture
carefully placed in the 4WD’s luggage rack and our luggage in the
back of the vehicle, we began our journey out of Dogon. Honoring our promise
to the man we saw at Neni with the Tellem artifacts, we went to a small
village near Neni and Ibi and went into his boutique. In these two rooms
lit only by a few small windows, were Tellem and Dogon artifacts. After
marveling at the wonderful collection of artifacts, we suggested that
perhaps instead the man might want to charge a small amount to see the
museum-quality pieces. Feeding and providing for his family now was more
important to him than any delayed compensation of museum admission fees.
Tellem village site
As the driver skillfully manipulated the vehicle through
the narrow curvy roads up the escarpment near Banani, we decided to stop
to appreciate the wonderful view. Before us were the villages of Banani
Amou, Banani Kokoro, Banani Bassirou, and Banani Na, occupying spots below,
on, and above the rocky escarpment. Driving further up the escarpment,
we stopped at Komo Ouguro, site of a Tellem village in a cave. Once inside
the cave, we were able to walk right up to the purely Tellem village.
Some of the buildings made from mud brick were in ruins; others were rather
well preserved. Each building seemed to be founded on a separate stone
slab. Next to these small buildings, bricks still bearing the deep fingerprints
of the masons were evident. I also saw some rocks with a deep bowl-shaped
indentation, probably used for the extraction of oil. It was a wonderful
opportunity to see Tellem architecture in a settlement occupied and used
only by these mysterious people.
The jackal and the diviner
On the outskirts of a Sangha, we stopped at a place that
initially looked non-descript to me. Here was a small version of the fetishes
we had seen in some of the other villages. In addition, there were some
markings drawn into the sand, with sticks and stones occupying strategic
positions inside the long, narrow oval. Warning us not to disturb the
fragile design, Boubacar then explained to us that it was created by a
diviner. First the sticks, stones are placed and special symbols drawn
in the sand. Based on the changes occurred as jackals walking through
the design at night, the diviner interprets the results and makes predictions
about what will happen in the life of the person seeking consultation.
Following a lunch at the Swiss hotel/restaurant Cheval Blanc, we drove
out of Bandigiara, the main entry village into Dogon. Prior to our departure
of the Dogon area, we drove past a village that was having market day.
People, dressed up in their better clothes, were on donkey carts heading
to or from the village. Some were hauling firewood and large bags of produce.
Women, walking in colorful dresses, were carrying plastic buckets full
of tomatoes and other produce. For quite some distance we met people either
going to or returning from the market, eager to buy or sell goods.
Back to Bamako
Late afternoon we reached Mac’s Refuge in Sevare, where we once
again treated ourselves to a shower and some home-cooked meals. The next
morning we headed off on the long drive back to Bamako. As soon as the
4WD stopped in the Sevare gas station, a number of locals headed towards
the vehicle in hopes for a sale of items including Fulani blankets, jewelry,
hats, shoes, cigarettes, and produce.
Between Sevare and the town of San, we passed through villages also holding
markets. Many people on donkey carts and the occasional horse-pulled carts
were making their way to the market. Others were walking, carrying large
loads in baskets expertly balanced on their heads. Boys pushed small carts
with a pole full of chickens balanced on it. Other kids held up guinea
hens, hoping for a roadside sale. Along the way we passed by seasonal
riverbeds, now completely dry and sandy. On the road we passed large white
passenger trucks, crammed with people in back and gourds, sheep, sacks,
plastic bowls, and other goods piled high and tied down on the roof. Sometimes
there were even people on top of that! Some larger trucks hauled sheep
on the bottom, and large numbers of people filling every spare inch of
the open area. Our driver had to constantly be aware of hazards on the
road, including slow-moving donkey carts, potholes, and animals such as
goats, sheep, cattle, and donkeys attempting to cross the narrow paved
road.
In Segou, numerous signs indicated the upcoming COCAN, the all-Africa
soccer tournament held starting in mid-January in 5 regions of Mali. New
restaurants were built; lodging, stores and roads with streetlights were
added. New soccer stadiums were erected. I hope that Mali and its citizens
reap great rewards from the tournament, both in the immediate future and
for some time to come.
As we neared the capital city of Bamako, darkness began to envelop the
area. A curious white fog seemed to hang in the distance towards Bamako.
The closer we got to the city, the worse the “fog” was. We
then realized that the “fog” burning our eyes and making it
difficult to breathe was created by burning garbage – a practice
encouraged in order to clear the area of garbage prior to the tournaments.
Our thirteen-day trip was now over. The next day we started school, adding
with it all the familiar routines.
Reflections
Mali is a country with people proud of their tradition. Despite the numerous
cultures and ethnic groups, people generally co-exist peacefully. Life
is not easy – most are in subsistence mode, barely able to make
enough money or grow enough crops to support their family. Many things
are still done as they were hundreds of years ago. New technology and
ways of doing things are gradually encroaching, even into isolated areas.
It remains to be seen whether the introductions will be positive or harmful
to the culture, environment, and overall way of life. Although poor financially,
Mali is rich in its diversity and warmth of people. Once again, I have
had the pleasure and opportunity to witness this.
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